


Personal Jesus

by onearmedmechanic



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Arson, Freeform AU, Hitman!AU, Hitman!Jack, M/M, Murder, NSFW, killing for money, time stamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 13:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12482788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onearmedmechanic/pseuds/onearmedmechanic
Summary: After a dire tragedy strikes Rhys, he goes on a quest for who brought this upon him. But they find him first. Unfortunately, this altercation leads Rhys down a dark trail in discovering who ruined his life.





	Personal Jesus

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing I churned out at 2 am and it turned out really well so I'm posting it :P  
> feedback is always appreciated!

“Sweetie, I can’t let you sit here all night unless you order something.” The waitress had circled for the third time before finally saying something.

“Oh...um, sorry.” Rhys dug around in his pocket for some money and handed her a wad of cash. “Coffee please.”

“Sure thing, doll.” She took the money and set a little white cup in front of him, filling it with the coffee pitcher that never seemed to leave her hand.

“Thank you.” Rhys offered her a polite smile and she returned it.

Looking over his shoulder he picked up the coffee cup. It was nearing one am and there was no sight of this mystery man.  
To be fair, discretion was required and Rhys was happy to comply with that but he would like to see this man at least once. A face to face kind of thing. Look the person in the eye. The person who was hired to kill him.

Rhys tugged the sleeve of his sweater down over his hand, covering the finger shaped bruises on his wrist.

“Isn’t it a little past your bedtime to be drinking coffee, kiddo?” Rhys jumped when someone wearing dark sunglasses and a leather jacket slid into the booth across from him. “Whoa, jumpy little kitten. I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” The stranger smiled, showing off a row of pearly teeth.

He was handsome. That was the first thing Rhys noticed about him. Then he noticed the scar arching across his face. It was coarse and rough, the color different than that of his skin town but it had been weathered by time and looked just as at home on his handsome features as the dusting of salt and pepper stubble. Rhys was floored.

“Are you…?”

“Yep. you must be the Somerset kid. Real shame about what happened to your folks babe.” The man pulled out a menu and flipped it open, perfectly nonchalant. As if he hadn’t just been talking about the tragic fire that killed both of his parents and burned down Rhys’ childhood home leaving a 19 year old kid alone on the streets with more debts than he knew what to do with and the haunting knowledge that the fire hadn’t been an accident. “I'm actually surprised you found out about me, pumpkin.”

“When i found out that someone was trying to finish the job, it wasn't easy to ignore.” Rhys pushed his cup around in a circle in its little saucer.

“Then why on earth would you want to set up a meeting with the one guy who's got your name on a list.” he arched an eyebrow.

“Because I need your help.” Rhys let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

A low chuckle slipped past the stranger's lips. “What could you possibly want from me?”

“How much are you being paid to take care of me?”

“Big digits, sweet thing.”

“Two million,” Rhys said, he could see the stranger's demeanor shift. He wasn't supposed to know how much he was being paid. Rhys hadn't even been able to find a photo of the man, but he found his business transactions.

The waitress reappeared, upon seeing another patron in the booth her smile returned. “What can I get for you, honey?” She held the pitched up to Rhys, “More coffee?”

“Make that a double, sugar.” The man smirked up at her, dripping charm. He gave her a wink and she moseyed off to put the order in.

“Give me one good reason not to do you in right now.” Jack said perfectly calm, the smile never leaving his face.

“I can give you five million reasons.” Rhys sat back against the vinyl seat of the booth. Nudging the backpack with his shoe.

“Why?” The stranger questioned.

“Because someone almost beat you to it.” The young man pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to expose the bruises.

“Almost?” Jack lifted an eyebrow at his words.

“I'm not as helpless as I look.” Rhys pulled down his sleeve again.

“So what do you want from me then?” The man took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of striking blue and green eyes. Rhys had only ever seen a few cases of heterochromia, himself included.

“I want you to kill me and collect the two million.” Rhys looked him dead in the eye. “Then I’m going to pay you the five million when you’re all done disposing of me and have proven to whoever is paying you, that I'm dead.”

“If I kill you, how you gonna pay me?”

“It’s easy.” Rhys let himself smile a little.

~~~

Rhys was in the passenger seat of a 1969 yellow Camaro as it sped off down the highway, the flames of his “safe house” climbing higher into the night sky.

“I have to hand it to ya kiddo, that was pretty cool.” The stranger smirked, bringing the cigarette back to his lips, the red light flickering over his features.

“Thank you, and my name is Rhys by the way.” Rhys looked up at the man, catching the reflection of his old life burning to cinders in his dark glasses.

“Nice to meet you, Rhysie. Call me Jack.” Jack placed the cigarette between his teeth, one hand on the wheel and his free one was now resting warmly on Rhys’ knee. “I think you and me are gonna have a lot of fun together, pumpkin.”


End file.
